


Christmas Leaves its Mark

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bottom Sherlock, Christmas Smut, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, First Time, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sherlock's Plug Index, Top John, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John and Sherlock have their first time in front of the fireplace on Christmas evening. And Sherlock discovers John is a biter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Leaves its Mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Willie_The_Plaid_Jacket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willie_The_Plaid_Jacket/gifts).



> I was going to write something cute and fluffy, but apparently John had other ideas...

John sat in front of the fire, watching it burn. He absently poured himself another glass of whiskey and sighed. Of course he couldn’t have a normal Christmas. Of course Harry drank too damn much and there had been a huge argument and he’d walked out.

Looking at the glass, he knew he wasn’t much better than Harry sometimes. Dad’s marvelous legacy. At least he didn’t get drunk all that often. Right now he was enjoying a delicious buzz and the quiet of the flat. He couldn’t imagine Sherlock’s Christmas was going any better than his own.

The door opened and he looked up, surprised. Sherlock tugged off his scarf and coat and took four steps into the dark flat before seeing the figure in the chair. “Problems at home, John?”

John set down his glass hard enough to rattle. “It’s Christmas, Sherlock. _This_ is home.”

Something changed in Sherlock’s eyes. Maybe it had been too many months of dancing around the subject. Maybe it was just a little too much to drink. Or the way the firelight lit his flatmate’s face. All John Watson knew is that he was suddenly on his feet and dragging Sherlock into a kiss, pushing his tongue past lips barely resisting, the detective’s hands landing on his shoulders, pulling him closer.

There was the muffled sound of his name, but John wouldn’t let him up for air quite yet, all but dragging him towards the fire, knocking over the glass of whiskey as he pushed Sherlock to the floor, straddling the taller man’s hips. No matter what words came out of his mouth next, John could already feel his erection.

Sherlock stared up at him. John grinned, taking that as a sign that he’d finally found a way to shut the infuriating man up. He leaned down and licked up the amazing column of throat, hand tangling in the magnificent hair. Sherlock moaned, turning into a cry as John bit down and sucked, making him writhe underneath him.

Finally John pulled away, tilting his head to nip at his earlobe. “I am going to fuck you, Sherlock. Right here on the rug in front of the fire. Merry fucking Christmas.” He laughed at his own joke. Sherlock grabbed the hem of his jumper and tugged up.

“That thing is more hideous than usual,” grumbled Sherlock.

“Oi!” John caught his wrists. He pulled one to his mouth and experimentally nibbled on Sherlock’s wrist. The man moaned and rocked up. Sensitive.

John let go and peeled his jumper over his head while Sherlock unbuttoned his shirt. “I have been staring at you for months,” growled John, running his hands over the newly exposed skin.

“You’ve wanted me since that first day. Were too stubborn to admit it,” said Sherlock.

“Is that so?” John rolled his hips, making him moan.

Sherlock gasped and grabbed John’s hips. “I…may have had a certain attraction to you as well,” he admitted.

“I know.” John leaned down, biting his lower lip next and going for the button and zip on Sherlock’s trousers. The man gasped as John shifted back enough to wrap a hand around him. Maybe not that big, but he hardly cared and watching the man toss his head as he was touched could fuel his shower fantasies for months.

“Don’t bloody move,” growled John, getting up unsteadily. “I know you keep lube in the left hand drawer,” he called as he went down the hall. “Mrs. Hudson isn’t the only one who cleans this flat.”

“Don’t mess up my plug index while you’re in there,” called Sherlock.

“Does the biggest one have a name?” yelled John as he dug in the drawer.

There was a moment of silence, then something mumbled.

“I didn’t hear you,” John came back down the hall to find Sherlock nude on the rug, stroking himself slowly.

“Damn,” growled John, stripping off his own trousers and pants.

Sherlock stared at John’s cock. “I wasn’t wrong.”

John blinked, then broke into a grin. “You named it after me?”

The blush reached from Sherlock’s hairline down to his pale chest. “It was a simple calculation,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, we’ve been putting this off too long.” He knelt between Sherlock’s legs and kissed up his chest until he could suckle on a collarbone, making Sherlock moan again. Leaning back, he gave the man a wicked grin. “How long have you been stuffing yourself with what you’d imagine I’d feel like?”

The blush deepened, if that was possible and Sherlock’s mouth stayed firmly closed. John leaned forward again and bit his earlobe, worrying it in his mouth. He gasped and tried to pull away but John kept up the pressure. “Ah! Seven months, one week and three days if you need me to be precise.”

John giggled as he sat back and opened up the lube. “Hardly a conventional interrogation technique,” grumbled Sherlock, rubbing at his ear.

“Well then, you shouldn’t have any problem handling me.” John liberally coated his fingers.

Sherlock lay back and spread himself wide for him. “Do it, John.”

Bending down to nibble at Sherlock’s pale thigh, John’s fingers circled his hole a few moments before slowly pressing one inside. Sherlock’s head went back, showing off that magnificent neck again, now graced by the start of a hickey. John bit down, making his lover cry out as he added another finger, stretching him open.

He licked the bite, then leaned down and swallowed Sherlock’s cock. The man cried out and scrabbled at John’s hair. “God!”

Grinning, John sucked hard before pulling off with a pop. “I am going to make you scream. Good thing Mrs. Hudson is gone for the day.” Sherlock was panting, staring at him dazedly like he’d never seen him before. John withdrew his fingers and moved up to kiss him, just pressing his cock against the man’s entrance.

“Please, John!” Sherlock pulled at his shoulders.

Dropping his head to bite the other side of his neck, John pushed forward. Sherlock cried out, wrapping his long legs around his hips as he surged forward, feeling the man stretching to accommodate his girth. He pulled out a bit and started thrusting in earnest, watching Sherlock’s face. Mostly pleasure, but with an undercurrent of pain as he adjusted.

Sherlock must have felt John watching him, because he opened his eyes. John’s breath caught as he saw those pale eyes almost black with lust. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he groaned, slowing his movements to appreciate the moment.

Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock grabbed his arms. “I thought you were going to make me scream, Captain.”

John thrust forward to the hilt, Sherlock’s eyes screwed shut as he cried out. John reached up one hand to tangle in his hair and pull his head back, going for his throat again. Sherlock groaned and moaned helplessly. Adjusting his angle, John felt the man’s whole body shake as he grazed his prostate, gasping at how tight he felt. One more thrust and Sherlock shouted as he came without a touch to his cock.

“Sherlock!” John yelled as he came at nearly the same time. He groaned at the way his lover’s body squeezed him, making the world white out for a few moments. When he was aware again he found himself laying across Sherlock’s chest, a hand carding slowly through his hair.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Sherlock’s voice rumbled deeply.

John smiled and leaned up to kiss one of the marks on his neck. “Merry Christmas indeed.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
